From the Biographies of the Distinguished Martyrs: (34) Dr. Ayyub
A doctor in Fallujah
The thirty-fourth “distinguished martyr” is a doctor by the name of Ayyub. Not much is revealed about JTJ’s structure from the biography. Most of it is dedicated to Ayyub’s fervently jihadist character.
Dr. Ayyub
Soon, I will cite one who loves him more than I do, though he holds a mighty place in my heart–and who knows him better to speak about him. Yet, I will share some of what I know of this mountain of morals and character.
I met the man about a month after the First Battle of Fallujah. He came to my house with a dear old brother who introduced him as Abu Ayyub. Then, Abu Ayyub requested to carry out a martyrdom operation, pleading that his wait not be prolonged. I promised him good news, but as he prepared to leave, a third companion whispered in my ear:
"This man is a doctor, we can benefit from him."
By God, it was true. So I reconsidered my approval for his operation and instead arranged for Dr. Abu Ayyub to conduct first-aid training for the brothers. We agreed on a schedule, and he soon prepared a manual, gathered all necessary supplies, and began his work.
Beyond this, he was tirelessly active in securing medical donations and anything related to healthcare. But he didn’t stop there. He began purchasing weapons for the brothers, embarking on daring adventures despite his inexperience with roads and the shady dealings of arms markets.
Abu Ayyub was meant to be in Fallujah during its second siege, but he left to gather supplies and was barred from re-entering. After our escape, I reunited with him, and he resumed his usual efforts, though his plea for martyrdom grew more urgent. I refused, given his immense value to the brothers, both as a medic and a tech-savvy expert in computers and the internet.
Yet, his longing for martyrdom intensified until he declared:
"If you don’t permit me, I’ll go elsewhere and they may not be trustworthy. Don’t deprive me of this reward."
I delayed him until, after the al-Jadiriya bunker events, his frustration peaked. Laughing, I finally relented: "Rejoice! By God’s will, you’ll strike their heads in the very same place. Go with so-and-so to scout the al-Hamra Hotel and Ard al-Zahur, you’ll find what you desire. May God grant you their rotten heads to elevate your rank and quench your rage."
He scouted the target and later shared a vision: He saw the Prophet (peace be upon him) guiding him as he dug his own grave–its interior lined with silver.
I said: "Alhamdulillah! To be directed by the Prophet (peace be upon him) is a blessing, and silver is better than gold."
In another vision, he saw me saying: "Rejoice! The treacherous Badr Brigade is finished. Only its name remains." That same night, a loved one called him, saying: "The rule of the Shia in Iraq has ended."
I told him: "By God’s will, you’ll reap countless heads." And so it was, praise be to God, Lord of the Worlds.
The operation was delayed repeatedly. He would drive out, only to return due to roadblocks. But on the night of execution, his heart was at ease. He told me:
"Today, my chest is light. I feel I will go tomorrow, God willing."
I reminded him of God, sincerity, and his duties. He asked me to convey his greetings to the beloved predecessors, especially the Prophet (peace be upon him) and his noble companions. Then he said: "By God, I love you."
Those words filled me with indescribable joy as if I had won the entire world. For a man like Abu Ayyub to love someone like me? That is abundant good.
We awoke early. As I bid him farewell, he said: "God knows I go not for nationalism or ethnicity, only in defense of my faith and to please my Lord. Were it not for this, I wouldn’t go. It is an obligation, an obligation!"
He urged the ansar to care for the muhajirin, bade farewell to everyone, and set off. The world watched as he approached a checkpoint just 10 meters from the hotel (an extension of al-Hamra Hotel) obliterating it and breaching a path for brothers to follow.
May God accept him, elevate his status, and raise his rank. Amen.
A Letter from His Kin
In the name of God, the Most Gracious, the Most Merciful:
All praise is due to God, Lord of the Worlds, and peace and blessings upon the noblest of messengers, our Prophet Muhammad, his family, and companions.
My brother Muhammad (may God have mercy on him) bore the traits of men since childhood. He suffered from asthma at age two, yet never complained. Patient and serene, strangers mistook him for stern, but those close to him knew his warmth and humor. Though our parents doted on him, he remained humble, beloved by relatives and friends, with no enemies but the enemies of God.
To us, he was a father despite his youth: kind, tender, pure in speech, hand, and gaze. He underwent laser eye surgery, and when asked why, he would joke: "To hit the target precisely." His greatest joy was being with his brothers in faith, returning home radiant, restless until he could leave again.
He fulfilled our needs tirelessly, always asking us to pray for his martyrdom: "I wish to be martyred and wed to the Huri al-Ayn. I desire no women of this world."
In high school, he would pester me about the Houri’s beauty. I would tease: "I prayed God marries you to ‘Lubba’!"
"Who’s Lubba?" he would ask.
"The queen of the Huris. Her forehead reads: ‘Blessed is the one for whom I am made.’"
Five months before his death, an abscess in his side required surgery. As anesthesia took effect, he murmured:
"My heart began chanting: ‘Light in my eyes, Huri to my right…’ This feeling lingered until I woke up."
Secretive about his work, he despised hypocrisy and lies. He feared missing martyrdom after being forced to leave Fallujah the night before its assault. Throughout Eid, he tried returning to Amiriyat Fallujah but failed, grieving every missed chance. He often sighed, “Perhaps God doesn’t accept me.”
Yet, that year, God tested him with lucrative job offers in England, Jordan, and Malaysia. Marriage proposals piled up, but he refused: "I dedicate myself to Islam."
He adored martyrdom tales, comforting me: "Sister, martyrs’ blessings touch their families. God will compensate you for me."
After the invasion, he saw the Prophet (peace be upon him) seeking refuge in our home, asking for his protection. I interpreted it: "You’ll become a guardian of God’s religion and His Messenger."
On Eid, my sister and I dreamed of our deceased mother, radiant and joyful. Ayyub’s final vision was of the Prophet (peace be upon him) guiding him to dig his grave–its interior made of silver.
His last night, he slept in my home. After Fajr, he said: "I dreamed my watch stopped."
I interpreted: "Your time has come, my dear. God knows best."
Laughing, I kissed him goodbye: "Don’t come back this time."
He later called, giddy: "Did you see a vision?"
"No."
"Me neither." He complained of delays, but I reassured him: "Perhaps it’s for your good."
In his will, he wrote to me: "Our reunion is in Paradise, sister. Stay firm. You’re upon the truth."
And to our sister, he wrote: "I can’t describe my joy that God chose me for this. Today, I meet the beloved Muhammad and his companions."
He urged us to fear God, be patient, and not grieve.
In his final days, he hummed his anthem: "Forgive me, comrades…" We sang together: "A mujahid in God’s path, he bid his family farewell…"
On his last night, we prayed together. He asked me to send his clothes and belongings to his brothers in faith. "I have nothing better to offer Islam than this body," he said.
All who knew him mourned, for his character was a beacon.
Eyes weep, hearts grieve–we mourn you, Ayyub. But we say only what pleases our Lord. Praise God, who honored us with my beloved brother’s martyrdom. May God forgive you, have mercy on you, accept you, and grant us an end like yours, dear brother.
Peace be upon our Prophet Muhammad, his family, and companions.
Written [and transmitted] by:
Abu Ismail al-Muhajir